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Rated: · Other · Other · #1621963
I thought of the 1st stanza and had to make it into a poem.
nine eleven
two-thousand-one
now it is over
the damage is done

in blazes of fire
taken from our earth
no more tomorrows
until your rebirth

sleep now, my loves
in beds made of dirt
no longer among us
now dead and inert

how will we get through this
this horrible pain
unbearable sadness
'till you rise again
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